Chapter 20: All the Money in Our Family Is Managed by My Wife

Jing Zhuo’s eyes flickered slightly, and he gave her a faint response.

"Perhaps so."

Song Xi continued to rest her chin in her hand, saying, "But you're much wealthier than her. That pigeon-egg diamond ring was too expensive. Is your family from an elite, prestigious background?"

Jing Zhuo’s hand, holding the steak knife, paused.

"Not really, just a bit of pocket money," he said.

"So humble."

Under the candlelight, Song Xi's eyes twinkled, revealing a naive, adorable charm rarely seen on her.

"Since you're so rich, does that mean I'm about to become a wealthy trophy wife?"

Jing Zhuo’s expression softened involuntarily.

"Do you enjoy the idea of being a wealthy wife?"

He set down his cutlery, rose to go to his study, and returned a moment later with a safe, which he placed in front of her.

"Inside are my personal assets, equity dividends, real estate holdings..."

"I've changed the password to your birthday. Everything is now in your custody. You can quit your job and spend money as freely as you like, just like your best friend."

Song Xi: "Huh???"

"Isn't that what you wanted? To be a wealthy wife? This is what that life looks like," Jing Zhuo said. "Let me know if you need anything else; I will do my best to provide it."

Was he really... this casual about it?

She had only been joking, yet this man had brought out his entire fortune?

Song Xi felt she must have had too much to drink, perhaps suffering from some post-intoxication delusion. She shook her head like a rattle.

"No, no, I was just joking. I still have to work; I want to build my own career."

Jing Zhuo asked, "You love working that much?"

"I love making money," Song Xi explained earnestly. "A woman without the ability to earn her own living is like a ship without a sail; one gust of wind or a heavy wave, and she’ll be crushed. It’s miserable."

"That’s why a person must have the ability to earn money and buy a house to shelter themselves from the storm—that’s where true confidence comes from!"

Jing Zhuo listened to her words in silence for a long time, a dull ache growing in his chest.

He had overheard what her ex-boyfriend said earlier. So, the reason Song Xi spent every summer vacation in the capital with Zhang Hening was because she lacked a proper home of her own.

He closed the safe and pushed it toward her.

"Then, from now on, all the money in our household will be kept by you, my wife. Please, help me save up some of that 'confidence' too, will you?"

Song Xi took those words to heart and accepted the responsibility with great enthusiasm.

"Okay! I’m very good at saving money, trust me!"

Under the candlelight, her eyes were bright, shining like hope itself.

As Jing Zhuo watched her, he couldn't help but make a comparison. Zhang Hening, that cautionary tale, had relied on her parents as a child, her brother as an adult, her husband after marriage, and her children in old age. How on earth did she end up with such a unique best friend?

...

After the meal, Song Xi offered to wash the dishes, but Jing Zhuo stopped her. In truth, there wasn't much housework to do; the dishes simply went into the dishwasher. He didn't even let her handle that, taking care of it himself.

Having had some wine, Song Xi still felt a bit dizzy. She retrieved her pajamas and went to the master bedroom to shower. Her phone, left on the table, began to vibrate.

Jing Zhuo was finishing up in the kitchen when he heard the noise and glanced over. On the screen, a long contact name flashed: "Universe’s Most Adorable, Kisses, Hening."

Why was she calling again? Jing Zhuo frowned and picked up the phone.

Just then, Song Xi came out after her shower. Jing Zhuo handed her the phone, his expression neutral.

"Someone is calling you."

"Who is it?"

"Your best friend."

"Oh, I see..."

Song Xi took the phone, answered the call from Hening, and turned back toward her room, wiping her hair. She didn't even spare Jing Zhuo another glance.

The living room fell quiet and cold. A faint scent of roses—a fragrance unique to her—lingered in the air. Jing Zhuo sat on the sofa, his face dark and sullen, a sense of frustration stuck in his throat.

He truly couldn't understand what Zhang Hening had to talk about at such a late hour. It seemed she was just too idle.

He pulled out his phone and dialed his assistant’s number.

"By 9:00 AM tomorrow, I want to see Zhang Hening’s attendance log on my desk."

"Find more work for her. Monitor her closely. No phone calls or chatting allowed during work hours."